Yankee Workshop
by Tony and Control
Summary: Written for prompts "beginnings" "middles" and "endings". Told from both Houses and Wilsons p.o.v. Lil bit of angst. Alot of sweetness.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Yankee Workshop 1/3

Characters: House/Wilson

Prompt: Beginnings

It was in the beginning of Yankee Workshop when House kissed Wilson. They had sat down for their weekly night of beer, Chinese and idiots with power tools. Wilson was partially interested in the program, about building a French armoire, he would love to have one but he couldn't find the time to go out and buy it. He was glad to be able to relax with House, his best friend. Nothing better after a stressful week at work, (mainly caused by House but that doesn't matter), then to just hang out with a friend and watch some television. He had felt House's stare on him from the moment he came in through the door with the food, it wasn't unusual for House to just stare, that's just the way he was. House had been staring an awful lot at Wilson for a while, now that he thought about it, since he got back from Mayfield. He used to just stare at things that fascinated him, and Wilson didn't fascinate him, he already knew all about him, well most of it anyway. So Wilson had to wonder, why House found him so intriguing all of the sudden, was he making more of a fool of himself than usual? He didn't think so, apart from the outrageous embarrassment from the porn posters posted all over the hospital. He had already forgiven House for that, especially after the whole my-father-is-a-minister-and-I-feel-even-more-lonely event. He thought House should just give up on that, he's House for god sake, no one is like him, he's special, a one of a kind. If Wilson were to be totally honest, he didn't even want House to start a new relationship with his father, he didn't want House to start a new relationship with anyone, Wilson should be enough for him, and Wilson hoped he was enough for him. The man on tv was talking about the shelves and outer perimeters of the project and House was still staring at him. He was getting a tad uneasy, but he allowed it because he liked it when House paid attention to him. Not the crazy obsessive attention he usually got because House thought he was hiding something. No just this nice, hey-I-noticed-you're-here-and-appreciate-it attention. He did notice when House started moving closer to him, they don't sit very far apart as it is, but there was an obvious distance that had been traveled from their original spots. Wilson didn't call any attention to it, just continued to watch the program, if House wanted something he would ask, or demand. Wilson probably should have called House on it, try to clear as much bullshit as he could. Because to be honest, he was curious, he wanted to know why House was acting so strange. He liked a puzzle, not to the extreme that House did, but he enjoyed the end result just the same. So yeah, he probably should have called House on the steady decline of the space between them. He turned his head towards House and before he could utter a word, he had a pair of lips on his and a mind that need de-boggling.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Yankee Workshop 2/3

Characters: House/Wilson

Prompt: Middles

It was in the middle of Yankee Workshop when Wilson kissed House. House knew his lips would be soft, because he had felt those exact lips fourteen minutes and twenty-six seconds ago. Now he wasn't aware how soft they could be, when he kissed the first time, he did it hard, quick and with all the feeling and passion he could muster. He wasn't really trying to get the soft, sweet and lingering effect that Wilson was going for; he enjoyed it just the same though. Any kiss from Wilson House would take, he remembered his Jimmy on rare occasions, very very drunk, and although it always depressed House afterwards, he relished those vodka filled brief kisses across his lips. The sadness came every morning after, when Wilson would wake with a splitting headache because of the hangover, and a blank mind that House had to fill with lies. House used to dream that maybe Wilson did remember those nights and was just too scared to say anything, but he wasn't that good of an actor. Years had gone by and House yearned and ached for his Jimmy, with no luck. Their friendship had been pushed to the limit, pushed past the limit, broken and thought to never mend, but they had worked and fixed it in time. House used to dream about all the times Wilson had said something that could be even mildly construed as a sign. He dreamt it had progressed from a normal night in with beer and tv to a night of declarations of love and self realization as they both whispered sweet nothings in each others ears. As House sat down that evening with Wilson, he had come to the decision that enough was enough, he had to stop acting like a lovesick teenager and either go for Wilson directly, or just forget it and cling to any looks from Wilson that could be contorted into some form of the love he needed from him. So House had sat down next to him, and just as the title shot was coming on the screen he leaned over and kissed. He only had one chance to get this right, so he put all the feeling, desire, want, need, passion that he could, because if this was going to be the only time he could kiss Wilson he was gonna make sure it was a damn good one. It felt like only seconds until he had to pull away from nirvana. He didn't wait for Wilson to talk, he just went back to original spot and continued watching the show, and so did Wilson, and he thought that was it, there was nothing there, Wilson felt nothing. He wallowed in self pity through the start of the program, his leg started to ache taking some away from his heart and then by some power of God (if he was real he had to give him props) Wilson leaned over and gave him the sweetest kiss he'd ever had, better than Stacy, Cuddy, or Cameron. His whole world in that instant seemed to glow. He didn't think he'd ever felt this much happiness in his entire life, Wilson, his Wilson, his Jimmy loved him too, or at least liked him. He didn't even feel his leg anymore, he was numb with ecstasy. They pulled apart and looked into each others eyes, and House saw warmth and love in those brown puppy dog eyes, he only ever saw that look pointed towards wives and girlfriends and now it was pointed towards him. House felt as though everything was finally right in the world, finally he had what he needed. He had his Jimmy.


End file.
